


Tell Me, Will We Meet Again?

by BirdMonster



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdMonster/pseuds/BirdMonster
Summary: Cyril wasn’t sure what the look on his own face was. Wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was prepared to fight people he used to know. Numb to the thought, really. He would do anything he had to to win this war-- even if it meant killing a familiar face.Right?--The Goddess Tower was supposed to make things come true, so Cyril and Ashe made a promise to see each other again after the school year was through.
Relationships: Cyril & Claude von Riegan, Cyril/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Tell Me, Will We Meet Again?

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place in an au where instead of looking for rhea after the battle at garreg mach, cyril went with claude to derdriu instead. i would love to expand upon this idea but if i did, this fic would be sixty chapters long and no longer be about ashe so i'm saying it here
> 
> anyway thank you so much for reading!!

[ White Clouds, Ethereal Moon ]

"So… how does this work, exactly…?" Cyril's voice was unsure as he leaned against the wall behind him, staring up at the expanse of stars in the sky. The view from the balcony of the Goddess Tower was always beautiful, but he didn’t find himself there very often. Especially not on the night of the ball. One would almost certainly be met with a blushing young couple making bold claims to one another about this and that… Romantic nonsense that Cyril never cared for.

He always found such things annoying. And never would he have thought himself to be the one in the position to do such obnoxious things, but it seemed every day that year took him more and more by surprise.

Standing next to him was Ashe, a sweet smile on his face-- one that made Cyril's heart flutter every time he saw it. Their fingers were intertwined, shoulders pressed together. And despite the cold of the winter night, Cyril felt warm.

Ashe hummed. “I think we each just make a wish… And then we’re done! Simple as that.”

“And then it comes true…? Just ‘cause we made it tonight?”

“That’s the hope!” Ashe gave his hand a quick squeeze. “Do you have a wish in mind, Cyril?”

“Mm…” He paused to think for a moment. But really, he had one since Ashe pulled him away from the crowd and made the suggestion to go up there. “I wish we get to see each other again once the year’s over…”

“Oh--! Sorry, forgot to tell you you’re not supposed to say the wish out loud.”

“Huh--” Cyril’s eyes widened a bit. He looked up at Ashe. “Did I mess it all up…?”

The other gave a gentle laugh. “It’s just a superstition, Cyril… Who knows if it would even work to begin with?” Ashe shifted around to stand in front of Cyril, cupping the shorter boy’s cheek with his hand. His own face was rosy as he spoke. “Besides… I was going to wish for the same thing.”

“Oh…” Cyril couldn’t help but smile, though it fell into a frown the next moment. “... I’ve never believed in this kinda stuff… But I really do wanna see ya again. It just…”

“... Will be difficult?” Ashe leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Cyril’s forehead. “I know… You’ll be going with Claude once the year is over, right? And Gaspard and Derdriu are far. But I… really want to be with you.”

“Me-- me too…! I really… really want that…” Cyril gripped onto the front of Ashe’s coat with his free hand. “... Claude wants us all to meet back here in five years. The-- the Golden Deer class… ‘N I know you’re not… But if ya… Um…”

“Oh-- you want me to meet up with all of you?”

Cyril fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Well…! If I won’t be intruding, then I would love to.”

Cyril brightened up at that, looking at the other with a hopeful gaze. “Really--?!”

“Of course! But I’m sure we will see each other sooner than that… Hm. Since we can’t rely on wishes, why don’t we just make that a promise instead? To see each other again. In the meantime, we can write letters. And if all else fails, then we’ll see each other on this night along with the rest of your class. How does that sound?”

Cyril smiled, giving another nod. “Then… it’s a promise--! We’ll stay together…”

Ashe gave a nod in return. “We will.”

Their distance was closed with a tight embrace. The warmth in Cyril’s chest grew. He was in love, and he never wanted that to change.

If it was to see Ashe again, he would wait forever.

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Ethereal Moon ]

The air was cold and thin, something Cyril had grown rather unused to. Derdriu was a port town-- humid and warm. And it was where he had been residing since the war began five years prior. Being back at the monastery was strange. It was empty, broken, and desolate-- a place he once tried so hard to preserve nothing more than a haunting ruin.

His old class got together as promised. A moment of solace amongst the chaos. They all laughed and exchanged stories of the years that had passed. And though the fear of reality loomed over them, they managed to put it on pause for the sake of their reunion.

Cyril was never much for social gatherings-- they exhausted him. And as soon as he no longer had the energy to be around his former classmates, he took his leave. It hadn't been very long into the night. He just couldn’t get himself to feel cheery like the others.

He could have retired for the night, but his feet took him elsewhere; to the base of the Goddess Tower. It was still intact-- weirdly so, he thought, since the cathedral had been destroyed. Weeds took over, but it otherwise looked the same. He glanced upwards, considering going inside. He couldn’t bring himself to do so, though. Instead, he leaned against the banister, staring out into the trees. A sigh escaped him and for a moment, he closed his eyes.

“All a bit too much for you?”

A voice behind him caused Cyril to stir. He half turned, all but glaring at the one approaching.

“... Shouldn’t ya be with ‘em, Claude?”

A short laugh. “I know I’m the life of the party, but they can handle a few minutes without me.” Claude took his place next to Cyril, flashing him a smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine.” Cyril meant to look back out towards the trees, but his gaze fell downwards instead, breath caught in his throat. “Just tired. Long day…”

“Come on, Cyril. No use in hiding it. You’re still torn up over Ashe, aren’t you?”

Silence fell between them. Cyril’s fists clenched. “... Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“If you’re upset about it, then it does. Talk it through with me, kiddo.”

A shake of his head. “I’m just… bein’ stupid. I haven’t even… heard from him in years. ‘Course he wouldn’t be here tonight.” A pause. His chest was in agony, eyes burning, but he refused to give in to the pain. “... He’s probably dead.”

Though Cyril could feel Claude’s eyes burning into him, he couldn’t meet the other’s gaze. Even still, when Claude’s arm found its way around Cyril’s shoulders and tugged him into a hug, Cyril allowed himself to lean into the embrace.

“I’m sorry, Cyril.” A pause. “For what it’s worth… I’m here for you. We all are, now. You’re not alone.”

Cyril’s throat was tight. He feared that if he tried speaking again, tears would start and never stop. So he settled for a nod, leaning a bit more into the other. Claude accepted the silence, simply squeezing Cyril a little tighter.

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Pegasus Moon ]

Cyril’s lungs stung with every breath, every inch of his skin burning as he moved. His vision was obscured by the heat emanating from the magma surrounding him. He reached out, resting his hand atop his wyvern’s head, leaning forward a bit to speak.

“You doin’ all right?”

The wyvern answered with an enthusiastic chuff-- a comforting sound. As long as she was okay, then Cyril was, too. He was fortunate to have a mount and a high tolerance to heat. The rest of the army was counting on him to keep pressing onwards.

And he did, not allowing the conditions to abate his accuracy. He shot down every Adrestrian soldier within range, moving as quickly as he could to make way for the allies behind him.

It wasn’t until an oddly familiar flash of silver caught his eye that he paused, turning to face the sight. Standing there was an enemy soldier-- not close, but not too far away. They would be an easy shot-- as would he. But the soldier wasn’t moving. Instead, they were staring right at him, arrow nocked in their bow but pointed downwards. Cyril stared back and in that moment it was as though time slowed down.

Memories flitted in the back of his mind. Of a dimly lit library and endless stacks of books. Of tea and freshly baked pastries and nervous laughter that gradually grew comfortable. Of a feeling of warmth and belonging after a lifetime of lonely winter.

Of the boy he once loved and never once stopped loving.

And Ashe stared at him from across the battlefield.

His green eyes widened in horror, he looked at Cyril with an expression of painful recognition. Cyril wasn’t sure what the look on his own face was. Wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was prepared to fight people he used to know. Numb to the thought, really. He would do anything he had to to win this war-- even if it meant killing a familiar face. 

Right?

He hesitated. And he hated that he hesitated. There was no time-- the army was counting on him. Claude was counting on him. He would cut down anyone who stood in his way.

Right.

He nocked an arrow, aiming it directly at Ashe’s head. The other didn’t move, not even to lift his own bow. Cyril clicked his tongue. _Do something,_ he thought. _Fight back, run away, something!_ But Ashe stood firm, eyes still burning into Cyril’s. The look of horror on his face had melted into melancholy. Maybe even defeat.

“Damn it,” Cyril muttered. He lowered his bow, instead grabbing his wyvern’s reins and directing her forward. In a matter of seconds, Ashe was out of sight. And Cyril felt a wash of overwhelming guilt.

Ashe was strong, there was no doubt about it. He attended the academy, after all, and Cyril had watched him grow so much in such a short amount of time. It had been years since then. And Cyril let an enemy like that go. Let him live to kill his allies another day. Did that make him a traitor? He certainly felt like one.

Maybe it was only because he didn’t know how else to feel.

\--

Claude insisted that Cyril went to get a check-up at the medical tent as soon as they all made it back to camp. It was annoying-- he hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, after all. And really, he just wanted to be alone for a while. But he didn’t want Claude to worry, so he begrudgingly made his way to the tent.

It was full. Always was after a battle-- yet another reason he didn’t want to be there. With any luck, the healers would just give him a quick glance over before sending him on his way. He moved directly to the back of the tent, not sparing a single glance at those around him. Not until something familiar caught his eye. Again.

Laying there in one of the cots was a sight that made his stomach drop and heart pick up so fast he felt dizzy-- Ashe.

His eyes widened and for a moment, he was frozen in place. A moment that was far too long as it gave time for Ashe to spot him, too, and their eyes met before Cyril could look away. In that time between the two of them, a smile formed on Ashe’s face-- one that made Cyril’s gut twist with distaste. It was glaringly fake. An expression he hadn’t seen since they barely knew each other back at the academy. What was he, no better than a stranger? Thinking such made him feel angry. Or sad, maybe-- whatever it was, it _hurt_.

In the same moment, something else clicked into place-- the reason Claude had been so adamant about him visiting the medical tent to begin with. And the uncomfortable feeling in his chest only grew.

He was moving, then, a quick pace that didn’t halt until he was in front of the man in question, his shirt gripped tightly in Cyril’s fists.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

“Ah, Cyril.” Claude’s smile was in stark contrast to Cyril’s clenched jaw and piercing glare. “I take it you got a chance to speak with our guest?”

“I--” Cyril narrowed his eyes, letting Claude go with a push so he stumbled back a pace or two. “No I didn’t speak with him, are ya kiddin’ me?!”

“Well, there’s always next time.”

“Next…? No--! There’s not gonna _be_ a next time, Claude-- make him leave!”

“Isn’t this what you’ve wanted?” The smile never so much as faltered from Claude’s features. “A chance to talk to him again?”

“Not like _this_ \--!” Cyril had to take a moment to catch his breath, to figure out what he was going to say. “He’s… he’s… I thought he was _dead_ , Claude…! But he’s not. He’s just… a _traitor_ . Fightin’ for the Empire…!” A scoff. “ _That’s_ why he stopped writin’ to me. ‘Cause he’s just… just…!”

“I figured that would only make you want to talk to him more, actually,” Claude said, his voice calm. “Seems to be a few things that need to be cleared up.”

The glare Cyril met his words with was searing. “Do you got a single clue what you’re doin’ by lettin’ him hang around here…? The _Empire_ , Claude-- that’s where he was workin’--! He’s our enemy! Ya shouldn’t have even _considered_ lettin’ him live…!” He was projecting. Of course he was. But being a bit of a hypocrite was a lot easier than acknowledging the abhorrent whirl of emotions pounding in his chest.

Claude looked at him with a knowing gaze. “Oh, believe me-- no one will be keeping a closer eye on him than me. But it was clear you didn’t want him dead.”

Well. Claude saw, then. How Cyril ran away. Guilt gripped at his ribs and he crossed his arms over his chest almost defensively, though he knew there was no defense he could make. “... There’s nothin’ for us to talk about. He defected… That’s it, I guess.”

“Is it? You won’t know unless you ask.”

Silence passed. Cyril stared at the ground, kicking at it absentmindedly. What else could it be? There were numerous possibilities, but he didn’t want to think of a single one. Because it was no use, he figured, if at the end of the day it just turned out that Ashe truly had turned against them. Then what use would hoping for another reason do? It would only cause him more pain.

When it was clear Cyril didn’t have anything else to say, Claude spoke up once more. “Just give it some thought, all right? If nothing else, I think you deserve a little closure. After watching you yearn for all these years…”

That made Cyril snap his gaze back up, face burning. “Shut the _fuck_ up--!”

Claude let out a laugh. “Sorry, sorry. But seriously, Cyril… just think about it, okay? I hate to see you in so much pain.” After clapping a hand on Cyril’s shoulder, Claude took his leave. And Cyril just stood there for a few moments, feeling the ache in his core.

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Lone Moon ]

They returned to the monastery just a few days prior and life had gone back to normal, as terrible as normal was. Battle preparations, war councils, bland food and very little of it. Not much sleep, either. At least not on Cyril’s end. He kept himself as busy as he could. Even more so than usual because he simply didn’t want to allow himself time to think. Whenever he got lost in his own thoughts, the everpresent dull ache in his chest grew into something unbearable.

And whenever he caught a glimpse of a certain someone, the ache grew all the same.

His recovery going well, Ashe had been roaming around the grounds almost as if he’d always been there. But he was much quieter than Cyril remembered. And much more somber looking. Of course, whenever he noticed someone looking at him, Ashe would greet them with his normal smile. But Cyril had caught the expression that preceded each grin. It was grim and it tugged at Cyril’s heart more than he would like to admit.

Usually upon seeing Ashe, he would walk away before the ache got too bad. Before there was a chance for the other to get a word in or even see that he was there. But there were times where he was caught staring across the room or the courtyard-- wherever they happened to be. And he wouldn’t be able to tear himself away until he was painfully aware of Ashe’s eyes burning into his own. The speed of which Cyril would turn to leave, then, could be nothing short of obvious. But he didn’t care. He just had to get away.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Ashe. Quite the opposite, which was the worst part. He wanted nothing more than to talk to him-- to find out what exactly happened. Why he stopped writing, why he fought for the Empire, why he was just… _there_ now as if nothing ever happened. And more than that he wanted to skip that conversation entirely. To go back to how things were. To feel comfort in the other’s presence instead of unease.

Times like that were when he got caught staring. Where he was lost in consideration about all him and Ashe could be. And there was one time in particular when he just couldn’t look away.

It was when he went to visit the cathedral. Cyril used to be there every day of his life-- cleaning the floors and the pews and the walls, scrubbing until the whole place was spotless and then some. So now there were times when he just went to look. To take in the mess it had become and let reality set in.

He was far from the only one to do this. Many people still went there for their own reasons-- usually to pray. So when he stumbled across Ashe standing near the rubble that used to be the altar, Cyril wasn’t too surprised. Ashe was a devout believer when they were kids, after all. Seeing him there was never an odd occurrence.

Ashe didn’t notice him at first-- the perfect opportunity for Cyril to escape. But he didn’t. Instead, he crept a little closer. The other’s head was bowed as though in prayer, but… something was off. A few more steps was all it took for Cyril to hear-- in place of silent prayer were quiet sobs.

Cyril stopped, suddenly feeling as though he was intruding. But even then, he didn’t leave. He couldn’t. Something was keeping him there-- though he wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was the fight in his head between wanting to run and wanting to comfort the man in front of him.

After some amount of time-- could have been seconds or hours, it all felt the same-- Ashe’s head lifted and his body turned. Their eyes met in that moment and Ashe let out a little gasp. He stumbled, surprise evident on his face for a moment longer before that damned smile took its place. And it looked so ridiculous with tears still streaming down that Cyril couldn’t help but grimace.

“Oh--” Ashe laughed a bit, a nervous sound. “Cyril… I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

It was the first time Cyril actually heard him speak. Though it was weak from crying, the familiar voice was jarring-- it struck Cyril’s heart with an agony that made him feel rather pathetic. As if his knees would give out if he wasn’t careful. So he reached out to stabilize himself against the nearest pew. He opened his mouth to speak, then, but nothing came out.

“Um…” The other shifted uncomfortably. “Is… Are you all right…?”

“Fine.” A beat. “You… You can go.”

“Oh… Well.” Another nervous laugh. “Sorry to… bother you.”

Ashe began walking towards him and the entire time he did, Cyril’s mind was screaming. _Say something!_ it commanded. _Anything!_ But he couldn’t. And the moment Ashe passed him, his footsteps quickened until Cyril could no longer hear them.

_You can go…?_ Cyril thought. _That’s all I could say? Really._

After that, the dull ache became much harder to ignore.

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Harpstring Moon ]

The battle at Gronder Field took quite a toll on the army. Though they came out victorious, the healers were busy tending to countless injuries long after the return to the monastery. The emotional toll was even greater, it seemed-- those who attended the academy years ago were all quiet. The silence was heavy and daunting and it didn’t seem like it was going to lift any time soon.

Despite this, life continued. Missions and training-- everything that had to be done still got done. Cyril made sure of that by picking up slack wherever he found it. Any moment of free time he had was spent looking for some task that hadn’t yet been finished.

He was on his way to check the stables, wanting to make sure the horses had been properly fed and watered. But the gatekeeper stopped him on his way.

“Good afternoon, sir!” he greeted. “Might you have seen Ashe Ubert around recently?”

Cyril stopped and blinked.

“Ashe…? Uh-- no. Somethin’ wrong?”

The gatekeeper’s shoulders slumped, a confused frown crossing his face. “I certainly hope not, but it is a little odd. He went off on a mission earlier today and while all of his soldiers are back and accounted for, I haven’t seen the commander himself return yet.”

Cyril’s stomach dropped. He stepped forward so quickly the gatekeeper jumped from surprise. “What do ya mean? When did his soldiers get back? Did they say anything?”

“Oh-- well--” The gatekeeper reached up with a nervous motion to adjust his helmet. “A couple hours ago. And it didn’t sound like he was in any danger, but they were all told to come back without him.”

Cyril narrowed his eyes, then huffed. “... All right. I’ll go get him. Shouldn’t have gone far outta town, right?”

“Well, probably not, but sir--”

He was already gone before the gatekeeper could finish. A map and his wyvern were all he needed before he went on his way.

Spotting Ashe from afar had become second nature to him. Cyril could see the man from across monastery grounds-- he needed enough time to avoid crossing paths, after all. So he hoped finding the other in the surrounding forest wouldn’t be too difficult.

Such thoughts did little to ease the rising worry in his chest, though. Just what was Ashe doing? In mere moments he was plagued with thoughts of the soldier defecting back to the Empire or being some sort of spy. Cyril just shook his head and focused on the ground below.

As luck would have it, the familiar figure wasn’t too far from town, just as Cyril thought. He was standing in a clearing, staring off into the line of trees in front of him. He must have been lost deep in his thoughts, too, as Cyril’s landing yards away didn’t cause him to stir.

Hopping off his wyvern, Cyril called out to him. He closed their distance when he received no answer.

“... Ashe?”

The other jolted with a gasp and turned to him, eyes wide.

“Cyril? What are you doing here?”

“The gatekeeper told me ya didn’t come back with your soldiers.” Cyril retrieved the map, holding it out towards the other, gaze averted. “Here, brought ya this.”

“Oh--!” The surprise was thick in Ashe’s voice as he took the parchment. “Thank you… seems I’ve lost track of time. And, er, where I am…”

Silence. It was the first time they spoke since that moment in the cathedral and Cyril felt terribly… awkward. There wasn’t a day he didn’t beat himself up over how poorly that last conversation went. If it could even be called that. But no amount of fantasized dialogue could prepare him for being face to face with Ashe again.

“... Why didn’t ya come back, then?” was what Cyril managed.

“Huh…?”

“You heard me.” He glanced up at Ashe as he spoke this time, the corners of his lips downturned in disapproval. “Why’d ya tell ‘em to come back without you? Got some kinda plot goin’ on?”

“Oh--” There was a hint of panic in the other’s eyes. “No, no--! Nothing like that, I swear… I was just…”

“Just what?” Cyril prompted, barely giving Ashe a spare moment to think. He shouldn’t _have_ a moment to think. No excuses-- if there was something going on, Cyril was going to hear about it.

“Well… just needed a moment to myself, I guess. Away from the monastery.”

A scoff. “Yeah? And what for?”

“For, um… alone time…?”

“Cut the shit, Ashe!” The words came out a bit louder than Cyril intended, earning a flinch from the other. “What’s goin’ on? What _is_ all this? We find ya workin’ for the Empire and then ya join us no problem for some reason. And now you’re sneakin’ around and ya don’t even got half a mind to come up with a good cover story-- well I won’t have it…! Whatever you’re plannin’, I’m _not_ gonna let ya do it, I’m _not_ gonna let ya ruin--”

“Woah-- wait-- hold on, I’m not…! I’m really not plotting anything against you, I promise! I… Claude saved my life. I at least owe him some loyalty.”

“Oh-- unlike the Empire, then?”

“Right.”

Cyril blinked at that. “... Right?”

A smile formed on Ashe’s face for just a second, but it seemed he didn’t have the strength to keep it up. A pained expression followed and his eyes were cast into the grass below. In the silence before he spoke, Ashe shifted, hunching and crossing his arms over his chest as though trying to make himself as small as possible. And when words did leave his lips, they were quiet. “Yes, I… I never had loyalty for the Empire. Not really.”

“... Then why were you there? Why didn’t ya just… stay with the Kingdom…?”

“It’s…” Ashe closed his eyes. “A long story.”

“So what? Ya owe Claude loyalty but ya don’t owe _me_ an explanation? Do I really mean nothin’ to you after…” He trailed off. It was awful-- the pain at his core in that moment was as bad as it had been the year following the absence of Ashe’s letters. When he felt empty and tired all the time and just couldn’t figure out what he did _wrong_.

“No! No, that’s not it at all, Cyril!” There was desperation in his voice now. A tone that begged Cyril to believe him. But his words fell short of that. “You… you mean so much to me-- even now! And I… I know you don’t believe me.”

Believe him…? How could he? All this time and the other hadn’t even _attempted_ to make amends. Cyril grimaced. He wanted to yell more, but if he opened his mouth, he was afraid he would only sob.

So Ashe continued. “I… Cyril… There’s really no excuse for what I did. You must be hurting because of me, right…? And I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There’s nothing I can say to turn back time. Nothing I can do… You’re better off without me at this point.”

“Oh-- really now? Is that it? And ya really couldn’t have let me make that decision for myself--” Just as Cyril feared, his voice broke. He was quick to fall silent and look away. Ashe didn’t respond, so Cyril gathered all his energy to let out a few stable sentences.

“... Let’s get back to the monastery,” he said, just barely loud enough for Ashe to hear. “‘Cause I don’t wanna look at you anymore. But you _will_ tell me what’s goin’ on. Later.”

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Garland Moon ]

It had been weeks since Cyril last spoke to Ashe. Again. And this time, a new guilt tugged at his chest. What if Ashe really was plotting something back then and Cyril didn’t press the issue? Cyril could have stopped something terrible from happening and he just… didn’t. But there was a part of him that wanted to trust Ashe. To believe him when he said he had no nefarious plans. Because surely the boy he knew all those years ago couldn’t be up to something so treacherous.

But this wasn’t the boy he knew all those years ago. What was so hard about accepting that? Why couldn’t he just _accept_ that?

Regardless, taking Fort Merceus would have been the perfect time to sabotage Claude if anyone had the means to, yet the plan ran smoothly. It didn’t mean that nothing bad could happen in the future, but it was what Cyril tried to comfort himself with. 

Another problem had arisen, though. Cyril found his gaze lingering on Ashe more often than not. Whenever he found the other standing around, he found it harder and harder to tear his eyes away. But where Ashe used to glance back, he now went to what looked like great lengths to avoid making eye contact. Or to get out of Cyril’s line of sight as quickly as possible. And though he hated to admit it, there was something… disheartening about that. For months it was clear Ashe had no intention of trying to speak to him, but there was still a part of Cyril that wished he would.

Maybe their last meeting ended a bit too harshly...? No-- even if Ashe really wasn’t going to betray them again, he still did the first time! So he was still a jerk. 

Cyril huffed. Jerk or not, it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to talk to the other. The words Ashe spoke in the forest that day echoed through his mind ceaselessly. What was this so-called “long story”? No matter how much he tried to distract himself, his wonder merely grew.

So, he decided that since Ashe wasn’t going to tell him everything on his own, Cyril would approach him about it. One more time. And hopefully leave with some answers. 

It was near the dorms when he next saw Ashe. The other looked as though he was heading for his room. And once he caught Cyril in the corner of his eye, he started heading there a bit faster. But Cyril called out to him before he could disappear behind the door.

“Ashe, wait!”

And he waited, but he visibly tensed, too. The turn he made to face Cyril was rigid, the smile more unnatural than usual.

“Cyril… Did you need something?” There was almost a coldness to his tone. He didn’t want to talk, that much was obvious. It made Cyril’s heart drop a little.

“I… I wanted to talk to ya. ‘Bout all that stuff ya mentioned last time.”

It took a moment for that to set in, then Ashe let his smile fall with a quiet sigh. “Cyril… I told you, there’s no explanation I can give that will make things better. It will only sound like I’m making excuses.”

“Well, let’s hear ‘em, then! Might as well, if it’s all the same to you.”

Another beat. And then Ashe’s shoulders slouched in defeat.

“... All right.” He took the last couple steps it took to get to his dormitory door, then pushed it open. “Come in.”

It was weird being in that small room again. Cyril spent plenty of time there in their academy days, drinking tea and listening to Ashe talk about the latest novels he was reading. Even the most boring of stories sounded interesting when they were told by him. Those memories felt lonely now.

“Um… Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” Ashe’s voice was weak with nerves already. Honestly, Cyril wasn’t feeling all that great himself. He settled down on the edge of Ashe’s bed, the other following suit a couple feet away. An awkward silence was quick to fall between them and Cyril once again found himself at a loss for what to say. “Um. So…” Ashe tried to speak, but didn’t make it very far.

“Why’d ya join the Empire?” the words tumbled from Cyril then, almost all at once.

“Er, well…” Ashe filled the space with a sigh, fists clenching as if bracing himself for something terrible. “... It was because of Lonato.”

Cyril figured as much. He would have been more surprised if Lonato had nothing to do with it. So really, that told him nothing. “... Okay. And?”

“And… All right, it was because I wanted to… understand, I suppose. What Lonato stood for. I never really… got it. Why him and Christophe did what they did. And no matter how much I thought about it, no amount of reasoning made a good amount of sense.

“So… when house Rowe succumbed to the Empire… I could have left. At any time, really. It’s not like Gaspard was far away, it just…” Ashe paused. Cyril glanced at him, catching a glimpse of the look in the other’s eye. It was… sad, to say the least. Regret pooled in his irises like puddles in a field after heavy rain. And when he spoke again, the remorse seeped just as heavily into his tone. “I figured that maybe… The Empire made an enemy out of the church. They saw something terrible in it… What if Lonato and my brother saw the same thing? So I thought that if I stayed with the Empire for a little while… maybe I would finally understand.”

“Huh.” A beat. “Well… did ya? Understand.”

And Ashe laughed. It was a bitter sound, one Cyril wasn’t quite sure he ever heard the other make before. “Maybe so.”

“... What’s that mean, exactly?”

“Well… the church isn’t all good like I was raised to think. But I didn’t need the Empire to tell me that. I mean, it was the church that--” Ashe’s voice broke and he took a moment to collect himself. Cyril had to fight the urge to pull him close-- an old instinct that never faded, it seemed. “... They made me kill him.” Ashe’s voice was grim, now, and laced with the threat of tears. “ _They_ were the ones who made me kill Lonato-- and it wasn’t only him! It was the villagers, too-- everyone who had been so nice to me and treated me and my siblings as if we’d always been there-- accepted me even though I was a thief and raised us and-- and even _that_ isn’t all--! Month by month… it was _constant_ …! Killing person after person and living with the threat of death night by night and never knowing when the blood spilled on the ground will be your own-- and the nightmares of the faces you’ve-- you’ve _murdered_ \--!”

It was at that point Cyril thought perhaps he should try to comfort the other after all. Ashe’s words were rushed and pained and his frame shook with violent sobs. But Ashe spoke too quickly-- there was no opening for Cyril to interject. And honestly, he wanted to let Ashe keep going.

“This-- that wasn’t what I wanted! It’s different in books-- it sounds so beautiful and heroic but there’s nothing poetic about a… a _real_ battle-- nothing! And especially not one you didn’t want to fight to begin with. And I just... I needed something to be different. I couldn’t keep doing the same terrible things over and over and over again. 

“But the Empire-- it was all the same. Of course it was all the same… this is war. But their methods-- I couldn’t agree with their methods. Lonato and Christophe… would they have…?” Ashe gave a rough shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter anymore-- I _hated_ the Empire-- I hated every awful second following their horrible orders and I didn’t understand _anything_ \-- And sure, I didn’t disagree with it all. But I certainly didn’t _agree_ , either. And I felt the same about the church.”

A pause for another bitter laugh before he continued. “Why did I join them? I don’t know. I wish I could tell you-- I really do. Maybe I just felt like a traitor for thinking Lonato and my brother could have been right. Maybe I felt like I belonged there for that, or because I was in that family or… or maybe I was just hoping to find closure. But I _can_ tell you that I never wanted to be there. From the moment I decided not to leave… I was ashamed. I _knew_ I was doing the wrong thing-- but I did it anyway.”

“... Is that why… why ya quit writin’ to me, then?”

A nod. “Yes… I… I didn’t know what to tell you, Cyril. The truth would have been the best option. Obviously. But I couldn’t… how was I supposed to tell you that…? My siblings… they weren’t happy with me. It was almost a year before I heard from them again. A terrible year-- I just… wanted to know they were okay, at least. And even then… I only got a letter from my brother. To this day I only hear about my sister from what he tells me-- she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. And the thought of you feeling the same way… was too much. It was easier to just… give up.”

Cyril let out a huff. “And ya did just that. Stayin’ with the Empire was givin’ up. Why didn’t ya just go back to the Kingdom?”

“Cyril… I was terrified just by the _thought_ of writing to you. Facing all my old classmates after betraying them like that… it was out of the question. I wanted to go back-- of course I did… Every day was miserable. But I needed money to send back to my siblings. It didn’t matter where it came from or how much they hated it. And where I wasn’t sure if the Kingdom would let me have a job… the Empire gave me stability. So I just… kept going. And after a while, I was numb. I didn’t feel anything anymore. Not really.” One more laugh, and in place of bitterness this time, it was hollow. “I didn’t even know what year it was until I came here. I woke up and I fought and I went to sleep and that’s all I _had_ to do. I didn’t have to think, I didn’t have to live… Just move the way I was told. Turns out being pulled around is a lot easier than standing on your own two feet.”

That struck a chord with Cyril. Just going through the motions again and again-- doing what you’re told and hoping it’s enough. His fingers gripped the side of the bed, a scowl on his face. “... Then Claude found ya. That right?”

“That’s right.”

Cyril looked to Ashe again and what he saw was frightening. The sadness was still there, the tears still streaming down his pale face. But his eyes looked empty now. And Cyril felt as though he was looking at the only expression Ashe had worn for years. A sullen, defeated look devoid of hope or purpose or meaning. It hurt to look at, too. Those eyes used to hold so much color. They lit up at everything they took in-- the most tedious textbooks or complex training routines, it didn’t matter. Ashe was eager to learn as much as he could and help out until he crumpled with exhaustion. He gave everything his all-- it was something Cyril always admired about him.

That light was gone, now. In its place a void of regret and misery that Cyril, he realized, wanted nothing more than to wash away. He would do anything to wash it all away.

“It was funny, really.” Ashe’s voice shook Cyril from his thoughts. “I was in bad shape when Claude found me. And when I first saw him, I was sure he was there to finish the job. Avenge your broken heart, I figured… But he just lifted me up instead. Said that I had unfinished business and couldn’t die there. So… I guess _that_ was about your broken heart.”

Ashe took in a shaky breath. He shut his eyes as though putting all his focus onto his next words-- making sure every one of them came out correctly. “Cyril… I’m sorry. I really… I really am. I never wanted to hurt you-- never wanted to _leave_ you, I just…” He shook his head. “It’s like I said before… it’s all just excuses. I shouldn’t have done that to you. And I understand if you hate me now. I understand if you--”

“ _Hate_ you?” Cyril cut Ashe off with a scoff. “I’ve tried. Really ain’t as easy as you’d think.” Ashe looked at him. Really looked at him for the first time in weeks, his eyes wide and surprised.

“You… don’t…?”

Cyril was offended, really. How could Ashe think his feelings to be so thin? He shot the other a glare-- one Ashe crumpled under, causing him to tear his bewildered gaze away. And Cyril felt bad for it. For both the sharp stare and for how his lips were locked together now, barring him from continuing.

Cyril had always been good at speaking his mind, but expressing emotions was something else entirely. Thoughts were just words-- they could roll off his tongue without the slightest hesitation. But feelings… there were layers to those. Some that dove deep into the corners of his heart he never could completely understand. Even the feelings he liked to think he knew quite well were bogged down with uncertainties and fears.

He was mad at Ashe. But was it because he was hurt or because he was worried? Relief certainly flooded through him every time he saw the other-- happy to see he was still alive, at least. But the bitter ache in his chest present since the day he realized Ashe was never writing back was there all the same. It occupied the same space as the butterflies he felt at every memory of Ashe’s smile and the tears he shed against Claude’s shoulder for countless days in Derdriu. The warmth he felt the times his fingers were interlaced with those of the one he held so dear and the coldness when he failed to sleep alone through quiet and humid nights.

He didn’t hate Ashe-- that was for certain. And he was in a lot of pain because of him. That was certain, too. But there was one more thing he found himself sure of in that moment. The moment where he watched drops fall from Ashe’s eyes and found himself wanting to brush them away-- to pull the other close and stroke his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay now. Yes, he could be certain of it.

“I still love you, Ashe.”

His glare must have softened with his words as Ashe was able to meet his gaze again. He still looked surprised, but there was more in his eyes-- a swirling pool of emotion different from the cocktail Cyril was feeling but not any less complex.

“I love you, too. I really love you, Cyril.”

He believed Ashe as much as he didn’t. He wanted to hug him and run far from him all at once. There was fear and elation and sadness and he wanted to act on every one of them. But that wasn’t possible. All he could do was sit there, staring into the other and knowing he was going through the same thing. What were they supposed to do now? Neither of them knew.

“You shouldn’t forgive me,” Ashe said.

“That’s not up to you, is it?” Cyril responded. And Ashe considered that.

“I guess not. But can you…? I think it’s better if… if you forget me. I’ve put you through too much.”

“Is that what _you_ want?”

“No.”

“Then don’t say it.”

They fell silent again, looking at their own hands now. 

“Ashe?”

“Yes…?”

“... Don’t do it again. Don’t stop talkin’ to me. _Please_ . All of this… Ya never had to be alone.” When Ashe didn’t respond, Cyril continued. “And you don’t gotta be alone _now_ , neither. Yeah, I… I’m pissed off. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about ya. You were there for me all those years ago no matter how distant I got… Wouldn’t make much sense if I didn’t do the same for ya now.”

“... Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

Ashe let out a wavering breath. Cyril wondered how long he had been holding it.

“All right.”

* * *

[ Verdant Wind, Horsebow Moon ]

  
  


It was over. After six long years, it was finally over and they were victorious.

The monastery was as busy as it always was. If it weren’t for the newly relaxed air of its inhabitants, it would almost be as though nothing changed. Many of the soldiers left or had plans to, finally able to live their lives the way they wanted. The rest stayed behind to help restore the ruin to what they once knew.

Cyril had plans of his own, of course. As soon as he was done saying his final goodbyes, he would be ready to follow Claude to Almyra. The soon-to-be king was going to need a lot of help with his dreams and Cyril promised to be at his side. A promise that went back to when the two of them were still kids at the academy. 

His memories of home were faded after all this time. And before meeting Claude, he would have abhorred the thought of going back. But everything was different now-- it was the dawn of a new age and Cyril wanted nothing more than to be a part of it. Besides, being with Claude meant he would never be alone again. Or without purpose. And even better, there was someone else with him, too.

The view from the balcony of the Goddess Tower was as beautiful as he remembered. Years passed since the last time he was up there and it was even longer since he had time to watch the sunset. Standing next to him was Ashe, an anxious but genuine smile on his face. The sight made Cyril’s heart flutter with relief. A concern of his that arose in the past months was that the only expression he would see on the other would be one of either misery or falsehood.

Cyril looked up to him, reaching out to give his hand a gentle squeeze. “How ya feelin’, Ashe?”

“A little nervous, I suppose,” Ashe said with a tiny laugh. “But that’s to be expected.”

“Ya sure you wanna do this?”

“It’s the only thing I’ve been sure of in a long time, Cyril.” Ashe glanced at him, his smile growing when their eyes met. Cyril even managed a small smile of his own. “Besides, what you two have planned… it’s amazing, really. I would help out in a heartbeat even if I wasn’t asked.”

There was a warmth in Cyril’s chest. He held on tighter to Ashe’s hand and leaned against his shoulder. Ashe leaned back and for a moment, they were silent. Simply reveling in each other’s presence.

“Hey... Cyril? I wanted to thank you.”

Cyril let out a hum. “For what?”

“Everything.” Ashe shifted around, causing Cyril to stir. He looked up to see Ashe gazing back, a loving glint in his eye that made Cyril’s heart skip a beat. “I could go on and on about it all, really, but mostly I just… Thank you for being here for me, Cyril. After everything I did--”

“Hey,” Cyril cut him off, lips tugged downward in a frown. Not an angry expression-- more of a pout, really.

“Right… I know-- we’re past that now. But really, I do still want to thank you again.”

Much to Cyril’s delight, Ashe had kept true to his word. The past couple months were filled with numerous conversations about the years that passed between them and where they were now. Where they would be in the future. It was difficult at first-- getting Ashe to say everything that was on his mind. But with time, he didn’t try to hide what he was feeling anymore.

“You really don’t gotta thank me, Ashe,” Cyril said, shifting his hand to interlace their fingers. “I _want_ ya to come with us, y’know. Not like I’m doin’ ya a favor.”

“Mm… Even still. You were under no obligation to let me back into your life to begin with.”

“Ashe…”

“I know, I know-- I’m sorry. No more of that.” Ashe leaned forward to press his lips to Cyril’s forehead. “I’m just… happy. I haven’t felt like I belonged somewhere for such a long time.”

“You’ve always got a place with me. Ya know that, right? You’re not alone anymore-- neither of us are.”

“I know.” Ashe’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and adoration. “And that’s what I’m thanking you for.”

Before Cyril could respond, he was distracted by Ashe closing their distance. Their lips met sweetly and for a moment they just stood there in the embrace of one another, bathed in the violet light of the setting sun.

It was a moment that Cyril wanted to last forever, but it was all right that it didn’t. Because Cyril was in love and he knew that wasn’t going to change.

Because Ashe was there beside him. They already had forever.


End file.
